You Are My Universe
by Seiryuu's Doom
Summary: YAMU enjoys it's 5th incarnation. RR greatly appreciated - 1st fic
1. Hail of Doom, Universal Disclaimer

Hello, all who number themselves among this community. I am known as Seiryuu's Doom, and I am one of those rarest of breeds – a male Fushigi Yuugi fan. (If there is a vast male fan base out there, let your voice be heard! I read on a website that there are 1 million female fans to every 1 male fan!) I know all the girls are crazy about the various hunk line ups to choose from in this anime, but when it comes to the hotties, there are few and far between.  
  
There is Miaka, my absolute favorite beauty in both of the worlds, and there is also her best friend Yui. Then there is Subaru, the Byakko shichiseishi who controls time, and Soi of the Seiryuu 7. And that's it, unless you think Miaka- sama's other friends are hot stuff, or you want Nuriko to really be a girl. What's better than Miaka? Two, of course, if that Evil Mirror Miaka could come out and play (licks lips).  
  
I do not agree with anyone that says Miaka is a whiny crying loser who eats too much and gets almost every guy drooling over her for no reason. Well, she is that beautiful to me. That is the obvious reason. My favorite moment in the anime is when she is sleeping peacefully while Tamahome sneaks away to save the kingdom by agreeing to go to Kutou. Lying there and mumbling the name of the one she loves – it is a very poignant moment and one of the sweetest scenes in the whole series.  
  
She is the heroine. She is cast into an unpredictable situation in another world, just by flipping open and reading the first page of a book! Oh, if all books were like that I would never be in this boring real world with no adventure or sense of danger. The only intrigue of note here is of the corporate type.  
  
I have seen the anime and its wonderful sequel, and rumor has it there is a second sequel – where can I go to find it? Does anyone know?  
  
I honor and adore the imagination and resulting creations of Watase Yuu, the manga author of FY and Ayashi No Ceres (which is awesome).  
  
Universal Disclaimer  
  
(This will be on future works as UD – UD is represented in its full entirety only here.  
  
I do not own, possess, or otherwise have the characters, plot, story, or settings of the anime/manga series Fushigi Yuugi in any form, real or imagined. I do not seek to use these works as profit from legends I did not create. However, any characters, entities, ideas, or notions from my own mind that come through my works are my intellectual property. If you are foolish enough to steal from this dragon's hoard, you will pay a price far greater than the potential rewards of the theft. Suffice for your stomach and sanity, I will leave out the grisly details for now. You have been warned. In summary, the paints are mine, but I am just being lent the canvas. It is said that a picture is worth a thousand words, but that is only because words are much smaller. In irony, I hope to use my words to paint the picture. It is up to you to see if this quest is fruitful – or rotten fruit.  
  
"IT HAS BEGUN!!!" (Mortal Kombat) 


	2. Scroll I The Hidden Angle

You Are My Universe  
  
Scroll I – The Hidden Angle  
  
Scribe's Legal Sigil, Rune of Disavowment: UD  
  
(Universal Disclaimer, for more info refer to its full text on Hail of Doom.)  
  
UD Addition – I do not own the music/compilations/lyrics of the series FY either. They belong to the wonderful songbirds that developed them. This covers all translations/variations English, Romaji, Kanji, etc.  
  
Scribe's Note: The music of this series is unbelievably excellent to me. It conveys the romance, battles, and other elements into a brain searing memory. So, for my first fanfic, it will be a songfic. I have chosen Hotohori's song "Boku no Uchuu ni Kimi ga Ite" (In My Universe, There Is You). Once on a whim I typed in Miaka and Hotohori's name in a nifty little ap named The Love Calculator. (www.lovecalculator.com). The result was a whopping 93%, a lot higher than with Tamahome. And since the emperor has been waiting for her all his life, he should have that chance! What a sad, cruel tragedy that he is forced to play out instead. But in the end he made the ultimate sacrifice by dying for his Priestess – the only reason the Shichiseishi have for their existence. He only regretted that he couldn't kill that manipulative bastard general Nakago. If he had still had his powers it would be no contest – his aura would be even stronger against one of the hated Seiryuu 7. With no further ado, on with the show!  
  
Fade in on Hotohori, sitting in front of his mirror. The narcissistic Emperor of Konan is appearing to do one of his favorite hobbies – preening and glorying in his beauty. Of course, this is a show put forth for his ever present advisors. If one looks closely, you can see that some of his sparkles are more liquid than light. His ministers do not notice, and drone on about the impending doom falling upon the country. He nods imperceptibly as it goes on - reports, possible strategies, even recommendations of evacuation past a neutral border – That tears it!  
  
His elegant hands fold inward, curling into jagged claws not unlike the ones on the golden statue of Suzaku. They then form into fists of rock, and slam down mercilessly on the dressing table in front of him. There is the tiniest spark of red flame for a nanosecond and then the table cracks in two – splitting perfectly in half and forming a rift that the entire collection of expensive perfumes and ointments tumble down.  
  
If the sharp crack of the table didn't jolt the counseling body, the next noise of glass and porcelain shattering nearly gave them a heart attack. They turned as one, mouths agape at a most unbelievable sight – the bristling emperor, barely in control of his ire. For all their grand planning and cunning, they had never anticipated this kind of situation ever befalling them – and certainly not from this gentle, quiet, well loved and well leading man. Only the Suzaku Warriors had seen his true vehemence unleashed on Tamahome.  
  
Well, them and one other.  
  
"Leave."  
  
Like puppets on a string, they whipped around again to see Miaka Yuuki, Priestess of Suzaku, and overall last hope for Konan standing in the doorway. Only this was a side of Miaka the poor wizened men had never expected to see in all their born days. Even Taitsukuun would have difficulty picturing this side of her. For Miaka had 3 sides, like a perfectly cut gem. The side she couldn't see invoked by Taitsukuun's curse was Evil Mirror Miaka. However the third side was a side she knew very well – and buried it with nauseatingly cute habits and tears. The one thing she couldn't quell was her voracious appetite. She coped as best she could, but in extreme circumstances – like this one – there was no holding back. Such is the fate of those with and inborn sense of justice. The razor sharp edge of her personality gem rotated to the forefront, withdrawn out of its sheath, the sword glittered with silent, cold but direct fury.  
  
That fury was currently targeted on the unfortunate sages.  
  
If picturing the emperor as he was now had been difficult, attempting to picture this sweet lovable priestess in her current state was nigh impossible. Trapped between two furies, one the consuming blaze of Suzaku, and the other the arctic ice of chill winter, they did not dare move.  
  
They did not attempt speech.  
  
There was no way to prevent the collective gulp from their nervous throats, though.  
  
Kudos to JenesisDark and KittyLynne for their encouraging reviews! They have spurred me on to finish this at 4:42 AM! OK, it's not a songfic yet. I haven't come up with the best words to match with the lyrics of the song. But most songfics are just the song and poetry – I'm attempting a little something different. The next chapter will be up soon, so hang in there! I would like to emphasize the fact that I like every facet of the wonderful gem known as FY. No rival pairings from me, but I'm not big on yaoi. Yuri is a much different story, which may be written someday – and it won't be a pairing you'd expect. Reviews, good or bad criticism, comments, precious metals, jewels, cash, artifacts and ancient spell books all accepted.  
  
Flames will be used to imbue the holy fire elemental power level of Suzaku far beyond simple skyscraper destruction! Write on!  
  
Seiryuu's Doom (etched in pale blue flame) – No color formatting s u c k s! (inscribed in angry red fire)  
  
"Life is what you make it" – Seiryuu's Doom  
  
"Am I really that attractive in this world?" – Miaka (Hell yes!!!) 


	3. Scroll II Cloaked Ambitions

You Are My Universe  
  
Scroll II – Cloaked Ambitions  
  
UD – Refer to Scroll I – This is your last referral notice.  
  
UD Addition – Unauthorized Disclosure Admonition  
  
It is a given possibility that there will be disclosures of the true series in my work.  
  
If you don't desire to know more than you think you should, then do not read.  
  
Consider yourself informed.  
  
Massive Length Advisory: I had no idea explaining perspectives from a dragon'spoint of view would be so long. The only reason that is is because I am forced to use mortal scripting. Dragon runes would be far shorter (and easier on me, I know my natural language better despite changing forms) but it would make no sense to you at all. The result is an extremely detailed explanation. (This may be quite the understatement.) If you do not wish to read this particular Scribe's Note, scroll down to reach the story. (This may take a little while.) The rest of you are commended for your valor.  
  
S/N: Welcome to the next exciting installment of my first epic-in-the- making. I value all who took the trouble and expensive time to review my scripts, and can only hope I come close to justifying your expectations. The burning question of the moment is what "person" am I writing this in? Well, if anyone cared to take a look at my brief bio, it says my style of writing is quite unique. It's time to elaborate.  
  
Person is a term coined by (sigh) what else, people. I do not fancy myself aperson, so I don't write in a "personal" style. My true form is that of a dragon – and so I write in "first dragon" and other draconic perspectives. People walk on two feet most of the time, but dragons have great wings and soar high above in the sky. When their vast energy falters for a time, they perch on mountains and rocky cliffs, inaccessible to humans and usually out of sight of all predators except rival dragons. You don't see them very often, but they are always peering down at you as you go about your chores, whether you live in a village or high walled castle, you cannot escape their observation.  
  
But, moreover is the sense that dragons have a natural dragon's eye view. Thisis greatly diminished in a dragon in mortal form, and the best they can do iscreate a hybrid blend of perspectives. Liken mine to a camera – it has fade in, fade out, zoom, and specific target features.) Fade in usually starts the show, Fade out ends it, and Zoom changes the entire perspective field. In my first scroll, I "zoomed in" on the dressing table, and it became a major "literal" fixture. Mind, it wasn't just the dressing table, but zooming on that point establishes a central focus for the setting. Usually, this is a circular radius.  
  
This actually goes back to how ancient dragons targeted powerful area effect spells. A circular pattern was the most simple because often the recalcitrant, nontribute paying village had its most important facilities in the center. Our leaders called it the Implosion of Greed, and it is still true even to this day – the poor throng around the concentrated centers of power and riches like choking vines. Sometimes, their sheer numbers are enough to topple kingdoms. Rich, fattened, lazy fools wielding twisted policy can still not match the savage desperation of a people pushed past its limits. Sadly, once the poor gain these strongholds, it is up to the next generation to overthrow them – and the Implosion resounds through the ages.  
  
Ahh, but that is not always the case. There are many exceptions, especially in this technologically sound world, but back then, it was much different. How different I will leave for a much longer (haha!) scroll. Until that time comes, I am afraid you will have to rely on your imagination. (And from what I've seen here, all present should have no problem with that!)  
  
I will also not attempt to describe the process of ancient dragon spell casting.Although there are now few dragons left to protest the revelation of theirsecrets, I respect the ways of my Dragon Elders, who engraved in me to never subvert the old codicils just because time changed incessantly around us. They never expected time to attack us directly, though. I am one of the few champions left, and just by simply surviving, my power has increased exponentially.  
  
There are hardly any dragon sanctums remaining today, and thus I have opted touse my considerable power to forge a far less noticeable form – that of a frailhuman male. Frail, yes but my mind in this form is as sharp as my claw talon tips in the other. I lament that the tradeoff in this form is losing my ability to fly. Therefore, the lack of dragon's eye view is why you cannot define which "person" I am in (I'm not in any), and combined with the lack of casting method in this form I am forced to resort to a hybrid blend of perspectives.  
  
This multiblend of views is refreshing, despite the difficulty. Youdon't get the whole dragon's eye view of tiny villages, castles, mountains, andminiature chess pieces of knights and others. Let's just say your orbs would be overstrained. Conversely, I have to wear glasses in this form to make up for they eyestrain differential – if I didn't, I would be blind and my regales to you rendered impossible.  
  
(A bright beam of flaming light flashes down, striking the mountain backdrop. The dragon's huge head turns, his eyes glowing as he processes the information. Nods imperceptibly, rumbles with satisfaction, and turns back to you. Zoom in onthe area as the steam slowly clears away, revealing the Celestial Symbol "Wing". The emblem has been deeply carven into its face, and tiny orange flames still spark and flicker there.)  
  
It appears that I must bring this mercifully to an end and pull you off the precipice. If you still don't understand, the summary is this – I can write in any perspective simply because I am vastly more powerful than ordinary mortals –  
  
GROAN  
  
Oh stop it! Like you would have accepted it if I just told you?  
  
Want to know what saved you? Her name is Kitty Lynne (points to "Wing"). – and she has just proven herself as a true champion of Shichiseishi Tasuki... (With her power of approval plain for everyone to see, they turn to digest this significance, and watch as the beam of fire races up to the summit of the mountain, and torch flames flare up, dispelling the dark shadows and revealing a beautiful red citadel, its torches now shining and illuminating both the hard sharp lines and well defined buttresses of the castle. The effect, with just torch light, is to envelop the keep in perpetual sunset...)  
  
"and that is my proof as a Champion of the one and only Priestess of Suzaku, the one they call MiakaYuuki. But the castle is not at full power – it needs the support of all the Suzaku 7, just as the Priestess draws from her warriors. You must search the land for similar champions – Champions as devoted to each of the warriors as they are to each other and the Priestess in the real anime. Merely finding the symbols on their bodies can not suffice – how easily fooled we are by appearances (remember Amiboshi) – so their writing must also prove beyond doubt they truly are behind them. As much as I fancy my own to be – (gestures at castle).  
  
Now, prepare yourselves, as I take you back to Konan, during the rise of Seiryuu's power. If you think you know Miaka well, you may be awed to find there is much more to her than is revealed by simple sight.  
  
Devoid of both movement and speech, the poor men could only tremble in the thoughts of their own minds. She had told them to leave, but they would have to move past her. They could not contemplate this complete transformation – it seemed that the avenging angel of the Phoenix stood there, not just his Priestess. But she still looked the same. Even more confusing, despite the heat of late summer, they were as bitterly chilled to the bone as if they were standing on the summit of Mt. Black in Hokan.  
  
The Priestess herself was a major contradiction in terms. Fire burned in her eyes but her stiff posture radiated bone numbing, chilling terror. Her jaw was set in sharp relief, jutting out like a blade pointed at the fools' unfortunate throats. Despite her relatively small stature, her very attitude conveyed a much larger – and deadlier – presence. A presence the men desperately sought some escape from.  
  
Finally, someone did more than think, either with fear, rage or indignation. Thesound of the emperor clearing his throat broke the frozen tableau, just as the stone heavy word from Miaka started it. It would appear that once again the emperor had harnessed his temper – for the moment. The counselors turned to him, looking for some recourse.  
  
There was none to be found. The usually warm eyes of Saiheitei Hotohori were cold, bottomless depths. This was not the escape the men had been hoping for, but they could not break from the harsh gaze. Helpless, it seemed they were still beseeching him for mercy. His next words dispelled all traces of hope from their beleaguered consciousness.  
  
"I believe Miaka told you to leave."  
  
"A-as you wish, your Majesty." Following the speaker's lead, the others quicklyfiled out the door. Miaka wasn't blocking their way, and she seemed content her order was being followed. The fiery look in her eyes never diminished though, and each of the advisors although lacking the courage to meet it, nevertheless withered under that terrible glare.  
  
Hotohori regarded her with a new sense of fascination. Never in his dreams had he expected to ever see Miaka assert herself. She was always taking so much from everyone; he had only thought it was released in her tears. He had never believed that his own councilors would be running in terror – from Miaka. He also noticed something else – she was still that way, even though the source of her offenses had fled. He knew she cared about him, but why was she ... looking at him the same way?  
  
Had he offended her too?  
  
"How long will you ... take that from them? I told you you are free!"  
  
"It is my duty to respond to the needs of my people..."  
  
She cut him off. "... by torturing yourself like this? I thought you left yourgolden cage..."  
  
"I am the emperor, and responsible for my nation's future and well-being ... provided the Priestess saves us."  
  
"Who will save you, Hotohori? Aren't you tired of this?"  
  
"Are you tired of being the Priestess?" Did Nuriko... and Chiriko die fornothing?"  
  
His voice rose in octaves, enough that the fires ablaze in Miaka's eyes guttered, but still burned strong. And then they ignited into pyres of pure loathing.  
  
"They will never have died for nothing!!"  
  
Hotohori nodded. "I'm pleased you feel that way."  
  
He gestured to the shards of his anointments and the mixed liquid staining the expensive wood floor, lying in the cracked pieces of the opulent table.  
  
"I feel no less strongly about that then you. But as dire as their predictionsare, they do speak the truth. We are severely outnumbered by the armies of Kutou, and even if we weren't, the power of Seiryuu is enough to make up for it. With Suzaku's power sealed by your friend..."  
  
"Nakago tricked Yui! He lied to her and it's his fault she has done all this ...she doesn't know the truth ... and I couldn't tell her then ... because I couldn't speak..."  
  
The flames of vengeance in her eyes were finally put out by the river of tearsthat came next.  
  
"I never meant to fail! Nuriko died for the cinnamon...  
  
"Shinzaho!"  
  
(Both look up startled, but the cracked pieces of Hotohori's mirror aren't talking ... at least, not now. In Mt. Taikyoku, Taitsukuun shakes her head back and forth. "Will that silly girl ever get it right?")  
  
Hotohori brushes a tear dampened strand of hair off of her cheek.  
  
"No one blames you ... or Yui ... for what has happened. Each of you has your own star to follow ...  
  
(The Celestial Symbol "Star" flares briefly on his neck for amoment – Miaka is shocked beyond words – aren't their powers sealed?) "... as I do mine."  
  
Where will it go from here? Only the dragon knows. (Fanged smile)  
  
Congratulations Kitty Lynne! You have been positively identified as the True Champion of Tasuki!  
  
(Massive Applause)  
  
When all 7 are gathered, just like in the real anime, something "special" will happen.  
  
Added to Acceptances:  
  
All the Code Red I could ever drink. (Do the Dew!!!)  
  
Flames just make Suzaku a happy Phoenix!  
  
"I care not what happens to me ... but Miaka must ... not ... die!" – Hotohori 


	4. Scroll III A Midsummer Night's Lament

You Are My Universe  
  
Scroll III - A Midsummer Night's Lament  
  
UD  
  
S/N: Ah yes, the fateful night. We all know what happened between Tamahome and Miaka that time before the battle with Kutou. Some, like Tasuki, even went a little further in their thinking. Regardless, we knew the time they spent that evening only strengthened their resolve and commitment to each other – bonds that would eventually prove so tough, not even death could break them. Still, one wonders what Hotohori was thinking after he told them they could get married anytime they wish. He didn't sound happy for them, but can you blame him? He was neutral and reserved, and left quickly ... probably before anyone saw him start to cry under his impassive veneer. Words hopelessly fail to depict the anguish the emperor struggled with ... nevertheless, I go forth ... with his mourning for a love ... that was destined NOT to be.  
  
Miaka.  
  
It is just one word, but it encompasses all of my previous obligations – both to country and self.  
  
It is the name of the long awaited, legendary Priestess of Suzaku.  
  
The one who will save us from certain calamity.  
  
It is also the name of a young beautiful girl who has my heart – one I will love for all time.  
  
She is the girl I have dreamed of for so long, ever since I was told what the "Star" symbol on my neck was.  
  
A girl will come from another world, and bestowed upon her will be the very  
  
power of Suzaku himself.  
  
She must be protected, as she is the very hope for our survival against impending doom.  
  
If worst comes to worst, we must give our very lives for her sake.  
  
Oh, but Miaka, when I saw you, I felt like I was dying...  
  
Drowning in joy.  
  
For even my dreams paled in comparison to your living, wondrous beauty.  
  
I told you you were exactly the girl I had imagined.  
  
I was wrong.  
  
My imagination could not begin to do you justice.  
  
I said to you I fell in love with you when we first met.  
  
Instead of melting into my arms like any overjoyed girl in my harem (if they had been given the opportunity)  
  
You turned away.  
  
Your heart already had been bound, even then...  
  
One day your love turned on you.  
  
Under the control of a foul curse, he attacked you and his allies.  
  
You were out of your mind with pain from your shattered heart.  
  
You tried ... to kill yourself.  
  
I saved you.  
  
I comforted you.  
  
I wanted you so desperately to love me.  
  
I wanted to heal your heart.  
  
In so doing, I would heal mine as well.  
  
You cared for me the way I always thought a girl from another world would.  
  
You cared for me.  
  
Not for the Emperor of the Konan Empire.  
  
Not for Celestial Warrior Hotohori.  
  
You cared – for me.  
  
Saiheitei.  
  
You said I had a warm heart.  
  
You said I was free.  
  
I wish I was free.  
  
To love you.  
  
He came back.  
  
With hate in his heart and murder on his mind.  
  
I had stayed with you all night.  
  
I told you do not leave this place.  
  
I was really saying "Do not leave me."  
  
In either case, you did not listen.  
  
You saw the depth of my love for you.  
  
I foiled your would-be assassin.  
  
I wounded a fellow warrior of Suzaku.  
  
With rather excessive force, I put my sword through his gullet.  
  
He fell off my blade, and lay there bleeding in the rain.  
  
Lightning flashed, and one word rent my soul, so close to healing...  
  
NOOOOO!!!  
  
I knew then that you couldn't love me.  
  
My sword shook and fell from my hands.  
  
It felt like I had been the one with a blade thrust through him – only a little higher.  
  
Yes, Priestess, I already knew what a fine swordswoman you would become.  
  
Even before I was told of your victory over Soi.  
  
And then I witnessed a miracle.  
  
The power and depth of your love was far greater than mine.  
  
I could only kill for you.  
  
But you would sacrifice yourself, and all that meant to us... and to you.  
  
If it would only ease his suffering.  
  
It was totally unexpected – from both me, the warriors, Nakago, Tamahome...  
  
And even Kodoku had met its match.  
  
Your own unshakable faith in your love – brought him back.  
  
I was glad to have him one of us again.  
  
However, there are no words for the grief I was to endure as payment.  
  
The hope for our love faded as quickly as the thunderclouds overhead that day.  
  
The sun was shining on you and your restored love.  
  
I wonder if the sun will ever shine on me.  
  
But no sun would ever be as warm, as bright, as life-sustaining...  
  
As you.  
  
You are more than the sun that warms me by day.  
  
You are more than the stars that glitter and wink at me at night.  
  
You are more than the world beneath my feet.  
  
Do you not yourself come from an entirely different world?  
  
Iie, more like an entirely unfamiliar plane of existence.  
  
I thank Suzaku you stepped into mine.  
  
Even if the noon, the full glory of your sun blazes on another...  
  
I am content basking in your warmth, and reading by your brilliant glow...  
  
For I know you.  
  
I love you.  
  
I could never stop.  
  
So I suffer, yet...  
  
How can such suffering bring such joy?  
  
Just seeing you smile... a ray of your golden sunlight flashes my way.  
  
And then I forget I am suffering.  
  
You are here with me.  
  
I am here with you.  
  
My gratefulness in mere words is crude.  
  
Even if I wrote it in the night with silver stars...  
  
Even if I used the whole universe as a canvas to write my eternal tribute to you...  
  
It would not suffice.  
  
You are more than this universe...  
  
The Universe of the Four Gods.  
  
YOU ARE MY UNIVERSE  
  
In the heavens, the stars are twinkling.  
  
In the ground, the flowers are blooming.  
  
And now, in my universe,  
  
my love for you is shining.  
  
It won't stop.  
  
It won't be stopped.  
  
Love,  
  
like breathing,  
  
is irreplaceable.  
  
I'm glad I was born, because I exist for you.  
  
I live with pain as I fight with fate.  
  
Even if you're far away, whoever you may be with,  
  
I have only one wish: your happiness.  
  
Beyond the blue sky, are the stars that watch over you.  
  
My feelings that shine for you are eternal.  
  
Looking up at the heavens with my arms spread wide,  
  
like I'm a bit asleep,  
  
alone, I force a smile,  
  
my heart beating wildly.  
  
It won't stop.  
  
It won't be stopped.  
  
Lovingly holding you.  
  
I saw it in my dreams.  
  
In the sky, there are stars.  
  
In the ground, the flowers are blooming.  
  
And in my universe, there is you.  
  
(In the sky, there are stars.)  
  
(In the ground, the flowers are blooming.)  
  
(And in my universe, there is you.)  
  
In the sky, there are stars.  
  
In the ground, the flowers are blooming.  
  
And in my universe, there is you.  
  
(In the sky, there are stars.)  
  
(In the ground, the flowers are blooming.)  
  
(And in my universe, there is you.)  
  
In the sky, there are stars.  
  
In the ground, the flowers are blooming.  
  
And in my universe, there is you.  
  
If you want the Romaji too, make some noise and I shall include it.  
  
Is this the end of a trilogy ...  
  
or just the beginning?  
  
You decide.  
  
Special Notice: All Champion Requests will be DENIED. Your WRITING must PROVE BEYOND DOUBT that you TRULY are behind your chosen warrior. The DRAGON is the sole judge of that. Plot, subject, storyline doesn't matter; you must present your warrior in a much more than favorable light. Hmm, chance to convert people! Hopefully this will inspire you to write (and clear up a few cases of writer's block).  
  
Subnotice: Writing for Champion Titles by writing something new in support of them will be an exception.  
  
I will look the runes over, and if they glow or paint new images in my own archaic mind, you have got a good chance.  
  
This is not a war, so don't fight over the remaining positions – once I am convinced by the writing and the champion is recognized in some future work, they ARE the champion, PERIOD.  
  
May your keystrokes be blessed, mortal contenders!!  
  
Added to Acceptances:  
  
Virgin Daughters (wink)  
  
Flames will be used to resurrect my party more frequently in Final Fantasy VIII  
  
(Summon Suzaku - Rebirth Flame!!!) 


	5. Scroll IV Inner Flame

UD  
  
First of all, I would like to thank everyone for their feedback.  
  
Of course I know Hotohori ends up with Houki – that was explained quite well in Eikouden.  
  
The big question everyone wants to know right now is why Hotohori's symbol was glowing?  
  
Well, isn't it obvious in such a symbolic series as Fushigi Yuugi?  
  
The most prevalent symbol is the phoenix, Suzaku. Despite all the hardships they endure, they rise once again – just like the phoenix resurrects itself.  
  
I'm simply showing that Suzaku was not entirely sealed away – after all, they did get their powers back. It's a simple case of foreshadowing. Or you can prefer to think that Hotohori is so strong and determined, he is able to make his symbol glow even without the power of Suzaku. This attests to the strength of his noble character and will.  
  
I know I wrote this as an H/M pairing, however, the time frame I've chosen is perilously close to Hotohori's fatal encounter with Nakago. Thus, there will not be much time for romance to develop. In this way I am staying true to Miaka and Tamahome's relationship. This is not angst, I simply want to write about the noble cause Hotohori fought and died for – peace in Miaka's world.  
  
"I will not let you interfere with those two ever again!"  
  
This begins my tribute to the great emperor Saiheitei Hotohori on the day he went out himself and battled for the welfare of Konan, his friends and most of all ...  
  
For Miaka's happiness.  
  
You Are My Universe  
  
Scroll IV – Inner Flame  
  
The sun rose, spilling its glorious light across the world, tearing the black night sky into shades of purple. The light, at the speed of it's namesake, crossed across the land, rolling back the darkness and uncloaking the beauty of the lands that had been shrouded upon nightfall. The dawn turned the grass into a field of emeralds, the tan wheat fields into golden oases, and the red roofs of the Konan Empire into sparking rubies. The sun itself, was a brilliant yellow topaz as it climbed slowly above the horizon, turning the sky from dark blue to purple, and then to soft pinks, reds, and oranges, and finally, as the stars faded and light filled the changing sky, the dark blue diamond shroud of night was exchanged for the brilliant sapphire blue dress of day.  
  
The Emperor of the Konan Empire, Saiheitei Hotohori, watched this beautiful dawn and sighed in resigned longing. He had come to grips with his feelings for Miaka last night, and had decided that although he would always, and could not stop ever loving her, she would forever love only Tamahome. Even though he had longed for her ever since he was a small boy just beginning to understand the duties of an emperor, he had wanted her to surely love him like no other, and see the real him behind the mantle of emperor he wore. Well, she had seen him, he reflected. And yet, she had fallen in love with another. Even.. when he was brainwashed and had come back to kill her, her love for him was so strong she would rather have welcomed death then be without him.  
  
"If it ends your suffering, I won't mind being killed by you. Just please don't ever leave me again."  
  
Her tears, and those profound words were so powerful, not even the ancient curse of Kodoku could withstand it. And against a love that strong, they were truly meant to be together. He wondered if his love for Houki would be as strong someday. His eyes darkened in remembrance.  
  
(Flashback)  
  
"Please, my lord, come with me. Do not fight this war and lose both me and our child. You ... don't have your powers anymore, and the Celestial Warriors of Seiryuu could easily destroy you."  
  
"All of that has previously been advised to me. But I cannot and will not take that advice! His voice rose an octave. "I cannot run or hide in the palace. The people must be defended. I will not let my friends face this peril alone. Do you know that even Miaka is going? She doesn't know what she could possibly do to assist us, but she doesn't care!"  
  
"Is all this still about her?"  
  
"No, Houki. I will not lie. You know I truly did love her. I still love her. But she cannot love me, and I will no longer interfere. I must reconcile myself to friendship, and she is one of the most wonderful friends anyone, let alone an emperor, could have. I swore I would find a way to get her to love me, but it was too late. If I wasn't so blinded by my own love I would have seen it sooner. To answer your question, no, this is not about her. Though it is the Celestial Warrior's duty to die for her, you couldn't say we are Celestial Warriors anymore. But through all our incredible journeys together, we have become stronger. We are a force to be reckoned with. The bonds we share go deeper than friendship, or love. As the Suzaku Seven, our very souls are linked to one another. That is why the most terrible experience any of us had was when Nuriko was slain by Ashitare. That is why each of us is going. Because we don't want that to happen again, and we don't want Konan ravaged by war."  
  
He paused, breathing quietly. Houki regarded him in respectful silence.  
  
"Still, though all those reasons are present, there is still my personal one. I would never live with myself if I didn't go out to defend my home. If I didn't try to stop Kutou at all, that would be much worse. So I will go out, and fight and even die if I have to, to make sure Konan remains peaceful. So our child can grow up knowing peace. So he can grow up at all."  
  
Tears coalesced in Houki's eyes as the full meaning of his strong words reached her. He loved her. She had his child, and he would die to protect them both. Just as he would die for his friends, the Suzaku Seven. It was the same commitment, the same love. It had overwhelmed her. So he truly loved her. He wasn't going to leave her with the child alone ... unless he died in the war. That all encroaching fear had numbed her and forced her to try and persuade him against going out.  
  
But if her fear had been able to hold him back, he would not be Emperor Hotohori, the man she loved for his courage, wisdom and honor.  
  
"I, I just fear for you," she whispered. "I won't ask for promises you may not be able to keep. So I will always be grateful to have been loved by you."  
  
"As I you," he said tenderly.  
  
(Flashback Ends)  
  
Suddenly his door burst open, revealing the fiery orange haired bandit of Mt. Reikaku, the diamond fan wielding Tasuki. His face was flushed red, and he was breathing hard as if he had run a long way.  
  
"Whatever is the matter, Tasuki?" Hotohori asked.  
  
"Mi – Mi – and Ta – Ta –..." Tasuki stuttered, attempting to get coherent words out of his choked throat.  
  
"Slow down, my friend," Hotohori cajoled.  
  
But before Tasuki could get his thoughts in order a hand whipped across his mouth and pulled him from the room. Replaced in the door was the beautiful brown haired goddess of his recent dreams. Much more beautiful in real life, she was illuminated by the just rising sun, setting sparkling crimson highlights through her hair. She was wearing a cream colored nightgown, and the sunlight made it glow gossamer white, like angel's wings. His breath left him, taking in the way the early dawn light shined upon her.  
  
"Mi – aka?" He choked out.  
  
"So sorry about that, Hotohori," she said in her sweet lilting angelic voice. It had lost all traces of the dark stone that had so cowed Hotohori's advisors yesterday. "We couldn't let Tasuki give it away so quickly."  
  
As she said this, her words were punctuated by a distant splashing.  
  
"What is going on, Miaka?" Hotohori asked, genuinely confused.  
  
"Oh, nothing, just playing a game with Tasuki there, she giggled lightly. "Sorry to disturb you."  
  
Before he could protest that she could never disturb him, she was gone.  
  
Sighing over her beauty once more, he walked over to gaze at the beautiful morning vista again.  
  
"GLUB OK! GLUB! I GLUB! BELIE- GLUB! YOU!"  
  
Tamahome took his hands off Tasuki's soaked orange hair and looked with amusement upon his waterlogged friend.  
  
"Honestly, Tasuki, do you really think I would have done THAT?!  
  
Tasuki paused to hack up a ball of water and brushed some damp orange strands out of his eyes.  
  
"Well, it certainly looked –  
  
"I KNOW what it looked like Tasuki, but she was scared. She didn't want to be alone. So I slept with her, but I did not sleep with her!"  
  
Tasuki cleared another ball of water and laughed.  
  
"THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT!" Tamahome roared. He reached out and dunked the bandit again.  
  
"GLUB! ALRIGHT! GLUB! –  
  
Both were interrupted by the soft sound of giggling.  
  
"Gee, Tamahome, don't you think he is clean enough?"  
  
Tamahome, laughed, releasing Tasuki and letting him reemerge. "I suppose so."  
  
"She's right you know. There will be enough time for these shenanigans after we win the battle with Kutou, you know?"  
  
"Chichiri!" Miaka squealed happily, glomping on to the talented monk.  
  
"Greetings to you to, Priestess but Hotohori asked me to gather you all for breakfast – so get dressed already you know?"  
  
"I was dressed..." Tasuki grumbled to himself unhappily as he stalked off to his room.  
  
"We'll be right there." Tamahome told him.  
  
Left alone, Chichiri shook his head in wonder.  
  
"How those two were ever born Suzaku Warriors is beyond me, you know."  
  
They all gathered around the table in Konan's Great Hall for breakfast.  
  
Tasuki was once again presentable. And all the others were eating calmly in thought. The servings were more than they were used to (well, except Miaka) but they would need the energy to fight.  
  
Despite the absolutely glorious day, this was the day of confrontation with the superior Kutou forces.  
  
The land was smaller, but protected naturally by the elements. To reach Konan and army would have to cross treacherous mountain passes and craggy paths. A superior force could be held there easily and worn down – if said superior force did not have the power of Seiryuu on their side. So none of Konan's troops were sent to seal the passes. It would have been futile. The army of Kutou would come, inexorable, powered by the energy of their revived beast deity.  
  
And so the armies of Konan prepared, watchful, waiting for the command to march out and defend their country. There was no doubt in their minds that they would not be led by the great emperor Hotohori, a pillar of strength and conviction for his people. They would not be wrong in that belief.  
  
After breakfast and serene discussion, each went their own way, to do what they had to do to prepare for battle – without the aid of the powers blessed on them by Suzaku.  
  
Hotohori walked into a private courtyard and limbered up, before slipping into the smooth, supple motions of a well practiced kata. His hands and legs flashed in rhythms to confuse and dissuade an imaginary opponent while causing maximum damage to them. Then, in a lightning quick motion, the holy sword given him by Taitsukuun appeared in his hands and flashed in a glowing silver arc of death in the rising sun.  
  
The motion was so smooth and balanced, that the customary ringing of a drawn sword from its sheath had not even been heard.  
  
The sword whirled around him like a living thing. Thrust, riposte, stab, parry, or slash, all merged into a seamless blur of glowing silver.  
  
His kata picked up speed and he moved deftly around the small courtyard, yet his feet made no sound. The only noise was the barely perceptible whoosh of air; a strangled cry of pain as it was cut to ribbons by a silver hurricane of steel.  
  
He stopped near a sturdy oak tree growing beside the path. He whirled to a stop, the holy sword back in it's sheath without a click. Time seemed frozen for a split second, then the tree slowly crashed to the ground, it's thick trunk split in two.  
  
With nary a backwards glance to the devastated tree, he left to saddle and armor his horse.  
  
Chichiri was in the Great Hall where they had eaten earlier. But instead of sumptuous food, the table was now covered with maps and charts showing Konan, its villages and surrounding territories on every scale.  
  
Although Chichiri and Hotohori had pored over maps and discussed tactics and strategy many times, this time Hotohori was preparing to lead the armies of Konan against Kutou personally. He would implement tactics in the field, but because he would be at the forefront of the offensive, he would not be able to see the whole picture as the battle played out. Thus that responsibility squarely fell on Chichiri's shoulders, and bereft of his powers of Suzaku, he would have to do it the old general's way.  
  
Thus, he was looking at the maps, and trying to formulate what Kutou would do.  
  
But despite the armies of Kutou and their three to one odds, Chichiri was aware of a much greater problem that he had chosen not to expound upon for obvious reasons.  
  
Miaka's friend, Yui Hongo, now the Priestess of Seiryuu for Kutou. She still possessed two wishes, and they could be anything save one. Thus, if she simply wished for Konan to fall, it would. With Suzaku unable to interfere, there would be nothing that could stop them. Except perhaps, a desperate hope, or miracle...  
  
"Let's just hope Yui wishes for something else, you know," Chichiri intoned under his breath.  
  
He went back to the maps, fervently hoping any plans would not be futile in the wake of Seiryuu's power.  
  
Tasuki was also practicing his combat moves, but was continuously getting annoyed. He knew the reason he moved slower – his Suzaku blessed speed was gone, as well as the fire from his diamond fan. He would have to fight at normal speed and rely on his other natural gifts to defeat the enemy. He was strong as well as fast, and that is why he felt like he was moving in slow motion. Without his gifted speed, his ungifted strength was overcompensating in control for his body. He turned back to the weapons lying on the walls, looking for something that would help him overcome this unbalancing.  
  
He eyes scanned through the arsenal. The finally stopped upon a small belt of throwing knives. He pulled one out, admiring the small ruby that winked in its hilt. He weighed it carefully, and was pleased to discover they were perfectly balanced. He whirled quickly and threw the tiny blade. It hummed through the air like an angry bee and embedded itself in the head of a straw dummy with a resounding thock.  
  
Thock. Thock. Thock. Thock.  
  
Tasuki smiled and pried loose the thin blades from where they had pulverized the dummy, striking through straw and rubber to pin the dummy's flesh securely to the wood wall behind it. He stepped back and bolted the belt around him, slipping each of the five perfect blades into place.  
  
He thought back to the time that he had chosen this ranged weapon, instead of the bow. Actually he was dismal as an archer. Nothing like the master arrow shot his best friend Koji had turned out to be. However the small quick thrown blades were easy to master, and he soon developed a reputation with being dead on with them. They would have become his primary weapons if his interests in magic had not manifested later.  
  
He laughed richly, bringing him back to the present. His magic was shadow and illusion, and an army of phantom wolves would do little to repel the impending invasion. However, they would be a distraction as he pinned the enemy to his death from behind. He laughed again. He had found a way past his speed versus strength conflict.  
  
The walls of the arsenal, a storage place for the weapons of war to rest after fulfilling their duties of spilling blood and taking life, echoed with the raucous sound of joyous laughter a few moments after the bandit had departed. The lifeless shapes of steel and wood were deaf to the irony of the sound. They abided in the racks as they always had, waiting to be pressed into service once again.  
  
Mitsukake had withdrawn after breakfast to one of the temples that had been converted into a makeshift field hospital. He had realized the need for such when he discovered he was deprived of the powers granted to him. Though of sturdy frame and large composure, Mitsukake was not a warrior in the physical sense. The power granted to him by Suzaku was the ability to heal almost anyone to near perfect condition. He himself had brought the mortally wounded Tamahome back from the brink of death, although Miaka was responsible for the spiritual healing, he had been responsible for the physical aspects of the wound.  
  
A terrible wound it had been, as the blade had gone right through his stomach and out his back, missing his heart and spinal cord by inches. Normally such an injury would require surgery and stitches, and probably would leave a memorable scar. But Mitsukake, blessed with the renewing powers of the phoenix beast deity, could easily regenerate even the most serious physical injuries and restore the body's condition. However, he could only do this once a day, so it's not like he could work miracles on the battlefield and revive an army to fighting trim. His role was support, as important in it's own way as the pure offensive roles of the other Celestial Warriors and the army was in theirs. Both sides combined to form a powerful strategic whole.  
  
But sadly, Suzaku's powers had been sealed away, and just as the others were adjusting to living without their powers, so he too had to resort to more mundane ways of healing the sick and injured that would always result from a war. Thus, the reason for converting this temple. It had been a perfect location in the center of the city, far enough away from the walls and on the main thoroughfare that led to the palace. He had stocked its shelves with medicine and set up cots in the main chamber.  
  
Of course, even when he had had his power he had been bitterly aware of its glaring limitations – most notably, the inability to restore life to the fallen Nuriko. And later, he had been helpless as Chiriko had told him his healing would only revive the evil Miboshi, the bodiless Seiryuu Celestial Warrior that could possess and control anyone, but he had made a fatal mistake in choosing the seemingly naïve and innocent Chiriko.  
  
"You will die with me!"  
  
And so they had, and Mitsukake and all his healing skills could account for nothing.  
  
Mitsukake frowned. "I won't let that happen again," Mitsukake vowed. I will find someway to save the next one, even without the powers of Suzaku. Even when I had them I failed to heal Shoka. I had thought I would have had enough time. If I had known my absence and Shoka's longing would have turned her into the Shikkonki Demon, I would have healed her then. But she hadn't contracted a fever when I last checked before leaving. I thought I could come back and tend her after saving the other. I should have never have left her, and won't repeat the same mistake again.  
  
Now he brooded over the medicines, sorting them for ease of finding them when they were most needed. He had no illusions about the grave crisis of the coming invasion. With such overwhelming numbers added to the power of the Seiryuu Celestial Warriors and their misguided Priestess Yui, the toll exacted on the erstwhile defenders would be horrendous. Mulling over his thoughts, he reached up to pet the furry bundle of brown and white feline perched on his shoulder.  
  
"Let's hope these beds don't fill too quickly today, Tama."  
  
"Meow," the cat voiced in acquiescence as it stretched then curled back into a tight ball perched on the healer's shoulder.  
  
Mitsukake smiled at his furry companion, then went back to examining the many medicines and herbs spread out before him.  
  
Tamahome was not practicing. He was a bare handed, bare bones open style fighter, so there was no weapon skill for him to hone to a fine edge. He had been mildly surprised when his powers manifested themselves in a ball of superheated plasma that burned a chunk right out of Nakago's shoulder. If he wasn't so angry at the time, he would have preferred burning the perpetual smug look of the blonde general into a charred skull caricature, but alas, Nakago had sensed the danger and whirled to face it head on. Tamahome took some satisfaction in seeing the look of surprise on Nakago's face. So even the leader of the Seiryuu Seven could be surprised.  
  
However, no surprises would save him this time. Suzaku was sealed, and with it, all the powers granted to its Celestial Warriors. The army of Kutou was marching towards his homeland, intent on conquering it and utterly claiming the lands it had coveted for so long. His lips turned up in a bitter smile. Perhaps if Kutou itself was not such a war torn land with disputes for supremacy, power, and favor with it's cruel, uncaring emperor, then it would not seek the other prosperous countries' lands so desperately.  
  
He stared deeply into the water running under the bridge, near the same place where he had cared for Miaka's wounded leg. Such a long time ago that had been. So much had happened to them all ... and Nuriko was ... gone.  
  
A single unbidden tear quickly dropped into the smooth water of the river, joining it on its journey to the ocean. The sunlight sparked off the ripples in the current, and Tamahome took a deep breath and steadied himself. 'Nuriko would hate this' he thought wryly. The situation of not having his renowned strength to beat in Tasuki when he erred in tact or to help out around the palace. That hadn't happened however, because Nuriko had ... died.  
  
Nuriko had already given his all, lifting that impossibly huge boulder blocking the entrance to Mt. Black's Shinzaho cave. 'After beating that wolf demon Ashitare', Tamahome soberly thought. 'If he hadn't moved it, then maybe he would have lived. Maybe he would still be with us now. If I hadn't fought with Miaka he wouldn't have told us to leave so he could go off and get the relic alone.' Tamahome sighed. "Too many ifs." What had happened had happened, and Nuriko had fulfilled his destiny and died for his priestess.  
  
Miaka was playfully sneaking up behind Tamahome, but could read from his body language – the slightly slouched posture, his aimless gaze into the water – that he was deep in thought. So she instead quietly laid a hand on his shoulder to bring him gently out of his preoccupation.  
  
Tamahome felt a light, feather soft touch on his shoulder and turned from the water to meet the sparkling emeralds of his beloved Miaka. Miaka frowned as she saw his troubled expression.  
  
"What's wrong, Tamahome?"  
  
"I was ... thinking. About Nuriko. I was thinking if we hadn't argued about what Yui had told me, then he wouldn't have left on his own. And then ... he would still be here with us, all together."  
  
"But ... he is with us, Tamahome. Can't you feel it, here?"  
  
Miaka laid a hand over her heart.  
  
Tamahome smiled. She was awkward, a terrible cook, but she could always say something to lift him out of his mood. It was surprising. When Nuriko died she had shut herself off and was humming to herself. Tamahome had had to drag her back and force her to face the reality of what had happened. Surprising himself too, because he hadn't wanted to acknowledge the horrible truth either. Even with the pain that felt as if a piece of his soul had been ripped right out of him, he hadn't wanted to realize it. No one had.  
  
"You're right Miaka. He is with all of us, in our hearts."  
  
Miaka smiled. To him, it was a radiance that rivaled the brilliant sun overhead.  
  
He wanted to stay here, with her, in this glorious day, and forget about everything else. But such was not to be.  
  
"At last, you know!"  
  
The couple turned to see Chichiri calling across the water from another bridge parallel to theirs.  
  
"What's going on, Chichiri?" Tamahome shouted back.  
  
"Trouble! Our scouts have just sighted the enemy heading this way! The way the runner's message sounded, it seems they didn't leave a single soldier at home you know!"  
  
"We'll be right there!"  
  
Chichiri nodded in acknowledgement then dashed off.  
  
Miaka shook her head, watching him leave on feet.  
  
"Something wrong, Miaka?"  
  
"Oh it's just that I'm not used to seeing Chichiri walk anywhere," she giggled, feeling a bit foolish.  
  
That was alleviated as she saw Tamahome beam at her.  
  
"I don't think he is either."  
  
Despite the urgency, they both laughed as they hurried on.  
  
SN: I was going to make this a huge epic scroll and end it, but there is simply too much to write to flesh out what happened during (Anime) Volume 14, The Fading Light. I hope you have enjoyed my attempts thus far. The reasons why this update has taken two of your human years is that I have changed locations and taken up new duties. The new holdings I am defending don't pay as well, but my strategy is invaluable as they are in a very exposed position. Once their enemies are so many piles of twisted bone and rubble, I'll inevitably move on again. It won't take long. It never does. (Dragon Grin – glittering sharp fangs, maw and all.)  
  
As for the other Champions, their selection has suffered from my absence. Rest assured the legendary ones will be found, and the full power of Suzaku unlocked to ensure Seiryuu's Doom! (the REAL Seiryuu not your friendly dragon author)  
  
Be at peace and enjoy life, for it is what you make it out to be.  
  
Seiryuu's Doom 


	6. Scroll V The Edge of Reality

UD 

**UD Addition – In order to embellish realism into my scrolls, original quotes of the characters involved will be used. If they have said it, or you have heard something along those lines before, it is copyrighted to the original creators. In no way am I claiming those words as my own.**

**Warning – As promised, this actually has violence in it, being a war and all, so if you are blood shy, you can retreat now…**

**SN: Believe it or not, I had full intention to publish this sooner, but a powerful conundrum interrupted me. I will only say it was more of an oversight on my part. The battle scenes at this critical juncture seem mere flashes of action, I hope I have fleshed them out enough so that you are able to see something beyond what goes on on the screen. **

**Truly, I believe that that is the most fervent hope of every writer of fanfiction.**

**SN: This is far, far from a complete chapter, but I post it now to slake your thirst. The search for champions begins to take on a new meaning, as a search for the champion within myself, and to truly prove myself worthy of the title – Fierce Defender of Miaka Yuuki (Beautiful Red Evening Castle) not just in the realm of fanfiction, but every realm I quest into.**

**Farewell for now and a good journey to you all. (12-7-2004, 2:10 AM)**

**Inspiring Song of the Day – "Hero" - Mariah Carey **

Scene/POV Transition

**Scroll V – On the Edge of Reality**

The entire palace rang with the cacophony of war. It was more preparation then battle but every one dwelling there knew that could very well find them here. The palace had had its fair share of violence – spies, assassination attempts, and even a duel to the death in the courtyard – but all knew this day the palace may no longer be around when the moon rose tonight. To prevent this, the levels of activity were at an unprecedented high.

The lowest stable hand to the highest honored attendant and advisory positions to the emperor enmeshed themselves into their tasks with a vigor so palpable, it was little surprise their auras did not become visible. It seemed very much that Suzaku was among them despite the cold truth of his extinguished power and presence to help his chosen ones. In the shrine, the golden statue blazed a new brilliant shade of gold.

It almost seemed that this energy was a source that still charged the atmosphere with the power of Suzaku, despite Suzaku's loss. It was far better to ignore the fact and let it overwhelm you then to dwell on it and let it slowly consume you. In not acknowledging the fact that it had happened, it might not have happened. This was not possible. Suzaku, their guardian deity … gone…? It couldn't be, not after all the Priestess had done for them.

Booted feet thundered across paneled flooring, the ringing of metal weapons and the clank of armored plates as soldiers hurried to their assigned deployments. Miaka had never seen such activity within the place before, but then again, she had never been present when Konan amassed its military might. Of course, with the Celestial Warriors quartered in the palace, a large force of Imperial guards hadn't been necessary, but the emperor had had other reasons for sending the normal palace contingent to the other barracks scattered around the countryside.

"War is terrible and cruel! What if Yui gets caught in the middle of it?"

At the time, he hadn't known who Yui was, or why Miaka was so concerned for her. Later when it was revealed she had become the Priestess of Seiryuu, and her best friend had become her nemesis, he was heartbroken over the pain Miaka must be feeling at the betrayal. Anything that could cause the legendary savior of his world pain was inexcusable, and unbearable for his normally gentle spirit.

So when Tamahome had returned as an assassin for Kutou, he had known what would have to be done. He was of the same frame as mind as Tasuki – Tamahome couldn't be one of them after breaking her heart, soul, and mind to fragments, and reducing her to an empty shell of a girl that tried to leave this world in the worst way possible. He had saved her, once again, despite having his power cut in half he had flown like the phoenix Suzaku himself and delivered her from the raging torrents.

She had apologized, and he had forgiven her. It didn't matter that Suzaku couldn't be summoned, and his country delivered from evil. All that mattered to him was that the girl he loved was safe. He was overcome with his emotion and love for her, and had almost forgotten himself, but was brought back to reality when his priestess pushed him away.

This hurt him, but he knew it would take some time for her heart to mend, and attempt to love again. Still, he was going to prove himself and stayed right by her side, reassuring her that he would not leave her. He would always protect her and keep her secure, no matter what happened.

And then HE had returned.

"Where is the Priestess of Suzaku?"

He ignored Tasuki's fiery curses and threats.

He could not do the same to the emperor, wreathed in the crimson aura of Suzaku, not to mention blood red rage.

"The Priestess of Suzaku is safe! I swear I will not allow you to lay a finger on her ever again!!"

They dueled, and Tamahome was no match for the Star's palpable, burning fury.

It was a fury that awed the warriors present, as they had never seen Hotohori so angry before.

The duel could only have one expected outcome – until Miaka ran right into the middle of it.

The thundering advance of another group of soldiers hurrying down the adjacent hall startled the emperor back into the moment at hand. It had been a miracle of Suzaku that had brought Tamahome back to them. It would take another to overcome Kutou on this day. This was the reason he had decided to spare Miaka from a much bloodier spectacle than any she had seen before, but it could not be helped now. She had seen the Warriors of Suzaku fight and die for her, so natural conflict would not seem so terrible. Besides, it was necessary. Kutou did not listen to anything other than force. Still, he wished he could spare her the brutal reality. They both longed for a peaceful future.

A future that had to be won by the blood of here and now.

He picked up the latest report from the Great Hall's table. It spoke of lightning obliterating one of the border guard towers. On such a beautiful day, that could only be the handiwork of the Seiryuu Celestial Warrior Soi. 'It doesn't matter if they have their powers and we don't', he thought grimly. 'We will fight them because there is no other choice'.

Just then he looked up to see his friends and comrades-in-arms rush in. They assembled, and he looked over each one, looking for signs of fear or indecision. He knew he wouldn't find any, though there was no harm in etching their faces into his memory for perhaps, the last time.

Despite the mask of Chichiri's, he could see the grim resolve in the monk's one eye. He turned to Tasuki, who was striking an easy, carefree pose against the doorframe. It spoke of cocky arrogance, but if you looked closely, you could see the tension in his muscles, the urge to spring out and fight. In contrast, the tall form of Mitsukake resembled a stone wall, the only motion his left hand unconsciously clenching open and closed, and of course, Tama preening on his shoulder, seemingly oblivious to all else as only cats can be when they are grooming themselves.

Tamahome had one arm protectively around Miaka, and was taking in the bustling center of activity that the Great Hall had become. Generals and officials filled the table, with the emperor at its head. Maps were scattered over the table, and runners and soldiers rushed back and forth delivering messages and rushing out with fresh orders.

Despite this sense of constant activity within the heart of the palace, each warrior had locked themselves into full attunement with each other.

"I would like to say that never has the future of Konan depended more on this single event than any other." Emperor Hotohori began.

Despite the lack of 'Wing' Tasuki still seemed to fly down the corridors to the stables.

"Alright! It's finally time to kick some Seiryuu ass!"

Buoyed by his enthusiasm the others followed him into the bright noon sunshine.

Tamahome turned to Miaka. She had gasped at the sheer number of soldiers awaiting them. Sunlight glinted off of spear points and polished helms, and the column stretched back along the road for a good half mile.

"Miaka, you don't have to go with us if you don't want to. It's going to get very rough and I couldn't forgive myself if you got hurt."

Miaka thought about it for a moment. She wasn't a fighter like her protectors. War was awful and pointless to her, people killing each other out of hatred, jealousy, or prejudice. She didn't want to be a part of it, but she kept her promises.

"No, Tamahome. I promised I would help you fight. I don't care what happens; I'm not going to leave you again. I was a fool to believe Nakago's lies and not trust you. Therefore I have decided that no matter where you go, I will go with you."

Tamahome was overjoyed. "Miaka, I feel the same way. Don't blame yourself, I was just as much of a fool to think letting you go would be easier than being forced to let you go later. I told you that if there was anything that could possibly keep us together, I would do it."

Miaka smiled, remembering the kiss they had shared in the temple. It hadn't been sunset, but that no longer mattered to her. That kiss had conveyed all the warmth, earnestness and conviction of Tamahome's love for her. She flushed red just thinking about it.

"Hey, ya coming? Or are ya gonna leave all the Seiryuu for me?" Tasuki called, breaking the couple out of their warm reverie.

"Not on your life, hammer!" Tamahome called back, pleased with Tasuki's barely perceptible, but very dangerous twitch of the eye. It spoke "I'd incinerate you if I could use my tessen," but luckily Tamahome would not have to endure that particular agony any time soon.

Tamahome climbed up and swung Miaka onto his horse behind him. "We'll just have to see who gets more, won't we?"

Tasuki laughed, the bright sunlight sparking off his fangs. "You betcha!" He turned and kneed in his horse causing it to spring after the column.

Tamahome grinned and spurred his horse after them.

The Sixth Contingent had been doing rather well. They couldn't use the traditional method of sealing the enemy forces within the mountains, but as soon as they had emerged, they had charged forward and forced the mountain to their backs. Consequentially, it had become the proverbial death trap as the enemy was funneled against the unforgiving rock as soon as they issued out from the pass.

Then, without warning, a storm of arrows rained from the high peaks. The archers' superior position and height advantage ensured that most arrows found their targets, burrowing themselves in eyes or boring directly through throats. The other soldiers quickly dropped to the ground among their already fallen and brought up their shields. The second salvo of arrows thudded harmlessly into the fixtures, but the momentum was broken. Fresh infantry surged from the pass, while cavalry thundered down the slopes itself.

Staying where they were would be certain death. The mighty contingent, now only half strong, broke up into scattered knots of fighting, forcing the archers to risk firing on their own. The air filled with the chorus of clashing weapons, war cries, and bellows of anguish. Riderless horses panicking at the smell of fresh blood broke free and trampled anything in their path in frantic flight. There was no longer organized resistance or any attempt to reform the funnel. As more troops exploded onto the scene, the fighting became more frantic as each side fought desperately to keep themselves away from the unforgiving dead zone at the foot of the mountains.

In the end, it was a battle of numbers, and the Sixth was completely encircled. They raised their weapons defiantly, prepared to die for their cause and country. But before another bevy of arrows could scythe them down or a cavalry charge finish them off, the piercing cry of a war trumpet rung over the fighters. Kutou and Konan forces turned as one to see the impressive column advance toward them. They had spread out, and it seemed a tide of crimson blood was coming to wash the mountains away.

The reinforcements from the capital had finally arrived.

The lead horseman drew his sword and issued the charge order. Even from a mile away he could see that there was too much of the blue armor of Kutou. Obviously the defense had come apart. It was fortunate that the new units had arrived when they did, or the Sixth would have been completely massacred. As it was, seeing their hope arrive, they burst into a desperate charge that broke the ring of enemies around them and flung themselves back into battle with a new fervor. Joined by reinforcements from the 14th and 3rd Contingents, the battle for Konan began in earnest.

-

At another pass through the mountainous border, a veritable blue river of dragon scale steel was pouring through unchecked past the obliterated guard towers. Other contingents rushing to the aid of their own had not detected the weakness until it was too late. Now, the river of soldiers curved sharply right and slammed into the back of the reinforcements. The savage and sudden attack pierced the formation and drove it apart, a steel arrow breaking inferior wooden ones.

The soldiers rushing to aid their comrades were broken into several ineffective knots of fighting. Whenever a soldier of Seiryuu was dispatched, three more replaced their fallen.

Tasuki rode into the fray, deftly removing one of his new throwing knives and hurling it with precision accuracy. It spun through the air whistling cleanly. That whistle was the last thing the unfortunate Seiryuu sergeant heard as the blade flicked by, then buried itself to the hilt in his neck. The man instinctively reached up, then toppled from his saddle.

The other soldiers with the troop angrily turned. Tasuki ducked under a flashing sword, then wheeled around. Reaching inside his tunic, he withdrew several of the magical wolf talismans, invoked the spell, and flung the illusions at the soldiers charging him murderously. The charge was nullified as large gray wolves with bared silver fangs and bloodlust-red eyes seemed to materialize out of thin air. If the men didn't panic at the sight, the horses went hysterical at the smell of hungry predator. With all thoughts on their survival, they bolted. The soldiers' attempts to control them were met with fury. Several of them were launched over their mount's heads. If they didn't snap their necks on impact, they could look forward to being trampled or dragged to their deaths.

Tasuki laughed. "Ya don't know how to treat yer rides, do ya?" Tasuki had learned that lesson the hard way, being beaten black and blue by his own horse. After that humiliating incident, he never stole food from his mount again, and always made sure the stallion had fresh carrots. Overtime, he had bonded with the horse, and it had become as swift and deadly as Tasuki himself.

This was more than proven as the horse instinctively spun around, smashing it's hind hooves into a soldier that had been sneaking behind them. There was a sickening crack as bones shattered from the impact. The force of the blow sent the burly man spinning off his feet and crashing into his fallen compatriots. He did not rise again.

Tasuki suddenly leapt directly off his horse as several small shuriken lacerated the space he had just vacated. The barely audible hiss of separated air had been the only warning he needed, having been on the receiving end of his chosen weapon. It had been taught that it was humiliating to die by your own methods, and so to prevent such, he had had to learn how to overcome his armament when it was turned against him, by adroitly dodging out of the way. His reactions were well honed because of it, and he had practiced without using his speed blessing. So be it a small blade or a huge javelin, he was effectively immune to anything thrown. Learning how to dodge the flame blasts of the fan had been a much more harrowing experience. He hadn't really needed a hostage to distract that fat fool Eiken. There was no way the bumbling tub of lard could possibly have singed him. This new opponent would have to try a different tactic. He turned, landing nimbly on his feet. His horse had instinctively galloped back toward friendly lines, where it would be safe from stray arrows. He now regarded the cloaked figure before him.

The form was completely enshrouded in ebony robes, and a cowl concealed all features except lifeless black eyes. No doubt about it, this was one of Kutou's deadly assassins and spies that had attacked the Priestess and her warriors numerous times. Tasuki's eyes narrowed. 'Damn it! Kutou's pulling out all the stops if it even sent those black freaks after us!' Before the bandit could taunt the spy, his hands flashed from his robes, launching another cloud of barbed stars.

Tasuki responded with several back flips, than at the end of the sequence sprung from his hands back towards his opponent. He twisted, letting gravity take him into a natural spin as more silver blades zipped past him. It ended with a deafening snap as the sole of his boot caved in the hook like nose of his foe. The foot continued downward, taking the head with it, and the rest of the body was fated to follow.

The spy was slammed flat on his back, dead before he hit the ground as fragments of his nose bone had been driven directly into his brain. Tasuki leaped off the corpse as more projectiles screamed for his blood.

"How can this be," hissed the second assassin. "Your powers are sealed!"

Tasuki sprang over a swinging spear, and spun delivering a roundhouse kick to the head of another soldier who had tried to kill him, thinking it would be easy with him distracted. The fool fell away, leaving his pike in Tasuki's hands. He twirled effortlessly, spinning the pike backwards and shoving it through the heart of the killer directly behind him. A long knife clattered to the ground. Tasuki turned and spit derisively at the adversary still imbedded on his weapon.

"My powers have nothing to do with it! I'm a damn natural!"

He flung the implement and it's dead cargo away, and turned to engage his newest batch of soldiers.

These did not appear to be normal recruits, however. They were not wearing the traditional blue scale armor of Kutou. Most had the dirty, unwashed appearance of mercenaries or even rebels. Then it came to him. They are rebels – not all in Kutou had been in favor of war with Konan. Still, they advanced towards him, with the slow shuffling gait of zombies, weapons held at the ready, but not indicative of any true skill. The most disconcerting thing about these new enemies was the emptiness in their eyes.

They had the same lifeless glaze in their eyes as the assassins. Tasuki had seen that glaze before though. He had seen it when he was fighting Tamahome.

'Damn those bastards! They've brainwashed them with Kodoku to fight us!'

There was nothing he could do however. Even if they hadn't wanted to fight at first, they could no longer control their actions. But wasn't it Nakago who had been controlling Tamahome? Could he be controlling these people too?

It didn't seem possible but who knew what the revival of Seiryuu had done for its Celestial Warriors? It was conceivable that their powers had increased.

'But they aren't immortal,' Tasuki thought. 'If I can take him out, maybe they'll all revert to normal.' Tasuki pulled out some of his older talismans, the ones that Miaka had written on. Illusionary food blossomed around the drone soldiers.

To Tasuki's amazement, it worked. The drones fell upon the illusionary feast like water bubbling from parched desert sands. He had no time to wonder about the strange properties of food from another world, however as a long shock of blond hair glimmered in his peripheral vision.

_Nakago._

It had only been the briefest of instants, but Tasuki was sure of what he had seen. After all, no one else in this world had the vivid golden hair of the Hin Tribe. Growling in barely suppressed fury, he started forward.

Then a blue bolt of lightning struck among a battle raging scant yards ahead of him. Horses and men howled in agony, and the odor of burnt flesh reached his nostrils. He sprang forward. He was closer to those fiends then he had thought.

Nakago looked over the battle with approval. With Konan's god sealed, there was no way to overcome his superior numbers. There would not be a repeat of his failure to conquer Hokkan. Even if they had not had to deal with the Genbu Seven, the harsh wintry region with its treacherous mountains and unpredictable snowstorms had effectively immobilized the army. His perpetual smirk deadened into a grim neutral line as he remembered the utter humiliation of his prize troops. But even his emperor had grasped that only failure could come to his ill prepared, frostbitten army. The failure was never made public, and Nakago retained his impregnable image.

Now he would make up for that loss. There was no way the Suzaku Seven could be any trouble now. Their powers were simply extinguished. His cunning, icy smile returned to wreath his features in confidence. With Amiboshi disguised as Chiriko, it had been remarkably easy to sabotage the summoning ceremony.

It had been a stroke of genius to further bolster his forces with brainwashed rebel prisoners. Their information had long grown stale, so what better way to make use of them?

He watched as another blue bolt of lightning crashed onto the heads of one of the companies of crimson armored horsemen. There was a blinding flash, and when it cleared only sparks sizzled through scattered ashes of what had once been a formidable threat. But no amount of skill could match the power he had now. His blue eyes sparkled in joyous mirth at the simple futility of it all. He watched Soi , pull back her sparking hand, quite pleased with her new capabilities.

Yui curled inward, and gripped the reigns of her horse tighter. The fighting, the screams, the blood, and death had all sickened her. Was this the price of being the Priestess of Seiryuu? Did so many people have to end their lives needlessly?

To her, these events are fiction, but that is difficult to rationalize when you are seeing it with your own eyes. To be in this moment and hear the anguish, to see the terror and to experience the power of this world firsthand was overwhelming sometimes. Even being in a completely different world was sometimes not what the imagination idealized - only the pleasant circumstances and fact of escape. Deep in thought she wondered;

"_I'm here too, so am I a fictional character in this book too? No, I can't be… I'm real! I am just fulfilling a role – the role of the Priestess of Seiryuu… aren't I?"_

She looked up as a presence of unmistakable power made itself known. As Seiryuu's priestess, she could now sense the almost choking strength of Nakago's life energy. Its blaze seemed and unquenchable inferno of flames that roared around him and devoured anyone in his path. But sensing further, the flames were blue. They gave off no heat, only cold. Flames or water, they agitated around Nakago, who had a heart of ice and a mind of steel. A cold drop of sweat ran down the back of her neck.

She considered asking Nakago that, then thought better of it. Had he not said he sought to fulfill his emperor's every desire? Though she couldn't help the nagging suspicion that Nakago's desires were very different from that of his lord.

Still, she didn't want to be in the midst of all this carnage. Miaka had betrayed her, yes but she didn't deserve to die. Then, as if thinking of her friend suddenly caused her to appear, she heard the clear peal of her once best friend's voice.

"No, Tamahome! We promised! We'll be together always!"

Nakago looked on, bemused, as a jealous storm of rage transformed Yui from a weary girl to a vengeful priestess.

'I won't let that happen, Miaka,' Yui thought zealously as she cast off her cloak and dismounted her horse. 'You will endure the same agony I have endured. Your lies, all you have done against me, for your precious Tamahome. How could you forget that he's a character in a book and I'm a real person? How could you fall in love with a shadow? How could you return to be with him and not to save ME?!'

"MIAKA! HOW COULD YOU!" Yui's voice echoed across the gap.

Miaka, startled, looked up to see her best friend standing several feet above her. Her frozen stare washed any hope of a peaceful reconciliation with her friend. 'Yui, even though I can speak now, it seems you don't want to listen,' she thought helplessly.

Yui's next words were not directed at Miaka, but they shocked her all the same.

"Nakago! I'm sorry, but your wish will have to come last!"

Yui turned her head before the general could reply or even acknowledge her decision.

She did not see the icy smile that infuriated Miaka.

She saw nothing for a moment as she called the sleeping beast within her to the surface.

"Gai – JIN!"

The dragon rose from its hibernation, as the power of Seiryuu flared to life and the proof of his bond glowed on his priestess's forehead.

"Return us to our reality! Do not allow Miaka to remain in the realm of this ancient book one moment longer! Return her to her own world! It's time for you to say goodbye to Tamahome, Miaka – for good!"

Her angry words were punctuated as a glowing blue disc of light formed under Miaka's feet.

Miaka was numb with shock. 'No… it's just like that time. I'm going back home. I'm leaving Tamahome forever… NO!!' But her protests were for naught. Slowly, the features of the ancient Chinese battlefield melted away, leaving only a black void lit by the cold sapphire radiance of the dragon Seiryuu.

Inside, Miaka was awash in an ocean of misery, fueled by the tides of grief from the irreversible fact that she could never return. She would never see any of her friends again. After all they had been through together was she just going to be forced to abandon them and break her promise so soon? It wasn't fair. It couldn't be real. They had saved her life innumerable times, even to the point of dying for her, encouraged her to take that next step when she was at the brink of despair. She had felt more safe, secure and understood there than she had with her own family. And Tamahome….

She dissolved into a new paroxysm of fresh tears.

She had lost her beloved Tamahome forever. The brutal edge of reality she was standing on, slashed deep into her, wounding her more than any arrow, sword, or mere fragment of broken plate could ever possibly do.

The truth did not just hurt; it imbued the priestess in web of sheer agony. For Miaka, it was an unbearable torment. All she felt was pain and grief. The unbearable emotions were so strong that they completely overcame her physical senses.

So there was no possible way she could perceive the warm grip of a hand on her arm as she was whisked back to her own time.

SN: I can only trust this sates you as I prepare Scroll VI – The Day The Worlds Stood Still. It's about … well, I'm sure you can guess. Thank you for your interest and time reading this. I hope you enjoyed it.

This particular scroll is dedicated to my mother, whose favorite Celestial Warrior is HOT–ohori.

Thank you all who have supported, reviewed, or read my work. From the bottom of my heart - "You Are Appreciated."

Peace be with you.

Never forget – Life is what **_YOU_** make it. Never leave that decision to someone else.

Sincerely,

Seiryuu's Doom


End file.
